


wait, they're dead?

by jamesstruttingpotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, jilytober
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8191654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesstruttingpotter/pseuds/jamesstruttingpotter
Summary: figured it was easier to collect all my jilytober prompt fills here than on tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> from anon on tumblr: im sure there will be plenty of sad fics this month so i want to ask for a happier au one: lily supporting james at his football game (maybe he's professional?) w the help of baby harry

“Are you fucking joking, Potter? Is that the best you’ve got? _Is that the best you’ve got?”_

“Hang on, _hang on,_ there he goes, he’s going, he’s going for it - YES! YES, JAMES, RUN!”

“GO! FUCKING _GO_ , POTTER, FUCKING _RUN!”_

“Yeah, this kid’s gonna have a mouth on him,” says Peter.

Sirius looks down at Harry, who’s sitting in his stroller and babbling to himself. He’s wearing a baby onesie version of his father’s crimson jersey. “Yes, because three month old children can pick up vocabulary,” Sirius replies, voice hoarse.

Lily’s eyes are still glued to the field. “Normally I try to control myself, but it’s fucking overtime in the _final match of the season_ , and James is - OI, POTTER, GET A MOVE ON! - he’s doing quite well, actually, and it’s all _very_ exciting.”

On the giant screens in front of them, James is streaking down the field, ball safely in his possession. A giant swell of noise grows as he approaches the goalie box, no hint of hesitation in his movements, pure determination on his face -

“AND POTTER SCORES,” Remus yells. 

The thunderous approval of thousands of spectators echoes back at them. The referee’s whistle signals the end of the game as James disappears under a pile of teammates. Lily’s throat is ragged from screaming. Harry shrieks along, delighted at the commotion.

“You fucking wanker,” Sirius shouts, as soon as James disengages from his team to run over to them. “You fucking _hot shot_ , Potter, what a fucking _star_  - “

“I love you too, Pads,” James shouts back, positively glowing with victory, before pulling Lily down for a kiss.

Behind her, the crowd goes crazy. She finds she can’t bring herself to care.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt by prongsyouignoramus on tumblr: "Listen. Jily. Bees. Somehow connect the two."

“I - are you _joking_ , Evans?”

“Come on, Potter, don’t be such a stubborn arse. It’s a good idea and you know it.”

“No, I bloody well do not _know it_. Are you seriously trying to tell me that - “

“Yes, yes I am! And I suggest you listen to me, too, given that I’m the one who’s received three Outstandings out of four papers for this class!”

“Oh, well aren’t we special? Well, considering _I’ve_  gotten three Outstandings  _out of three_ for Minnie’s class - “

“Transfiguration has nothing to do with Potions!” Lily cries. Her face is pink from indignation and the dungeon’s damp chill.

James gives her a smirk. “Yeah, well, still proves I’m smarter than you, doesn’t it?”

“Jesus Christ,” Lily mutters, casting her eyes heavenward. “All I’m asking is that I get a competent partner for once. _For once_ , Slughorn - “

“Oi, I’m plenty competent!” James interrupts, still grinning. “In fact, I seem to recall a certain redhead calling me - oh, what was it again? Oh right, ‘ _bloody brilliant’_  was the term she used, just last weekend after the match against Hufflepuff - “

She can’t quite hide the uptick of her own lips. “Well, maybe on a broom you’re alright,” she allows. “But this is my territory, Potter. We’ll play by my rules, thank you very much.”

James sighs dramatically, twirling his wand between his fingers. “Fine,” he says, and Lily tries in vain not to watch how his hair curls in the humid heat rising from their cauldron. “Add just one sprig of hemlock,” he continues. “Go ahead. What do I care if you’re _deviating completely from the textbook?_  It’s just my Potions grade.”

“James Potter, complaining about breaking the rules. I never thought I’d see the day,” she shoots back, before dropping said sprig into their concoction. Both of them peer into the cauldron. 

The potion goes from a murky green to a brilliant white.

“Ah _ha_ ,” Lily crows. “Now we don’t have to wait half a day for it to simmer down. Who was right, Potter, and who was wrong?”

“You were right and I was wrong,” reports James dutifully. “So… we won’t be taking a break, then?”

“No, probably not,” she replies, frowning. “Why?”

“Well, it’s a gorgeous day out, Evans,” he says, looking wistfully out the window.

“I knew we should’ve met up in one of the underground dungeons. You’re too easily distracted,” she teases. “Come on, we’re almost done now that I’ve saved us twelve hours.”

“At least let me open the window,” he wheedles. “Come on, think about that fresh spring air. It’s stopped raining for the first time in _weeks_. Besides, it’s humid in here, isn’t it? Wouldn’t you like to breathe in some fresh air? Good for the body and soul, you know.”

“Yes, yes, alright,” she acquiesces, turning back to her textbook. “Well, it says here we might need more armadillo bile, but I’ve just about run out. I think the storage cupboard should have some more. Ooh, and we should pick up some beetle eyes, too, just in case. Maybe even some - “

“Heads up, Evans,” James interrupts. She looks up just in time to see a large speck flying toward her, a low buzz in her ears.

She shrieks.

“Merlin, Lily, what the hell - “

“Get it _out!_ ”

“It’s a _bee_ , not an Acromantula. Look, it likes you.” He snorts. “What if it knows your name is Lily? Get it? Lily, because it’s a bee, and bees like - “

“I _get_  it, you prat, just get it out of this dungeon!” she orders, backing away into a corner.

“Evans, come on - “

“I’m _allergic_ ,” she says. The bee hovers in front of her menacingly, droning away. “So unless you’ve suddenly gotten very good at Healing Charms - “

“Oh, damn,” James says, sobering. “Alright, hang on - “ He draws his wand and waves it silently; the bee suddenly zooms out the window and out of sight.

Lily sighs.

“Alright then, Evans?” he asks, coming over to put a hand on her shoulder.

She opens her mouth, then shuts it again, quite suddenly embarrassed by her panic. “Of course I’m alright,” she says. “Just a bee.”

“I remember when my great-aunt got stung once, her face swelled up like a balloon. Had to be taken to St. Mungo’s.” He pauses. “Erm, maybe that wasn’t the best way, but I’m trying to say that I understand. Bees are freaky little buggers.”

Lily looks up at him; he is closer than she had thought, and she startles a little at how earnest his eyes are behind his spectacles. “Thank you for getting rid of it,” she says, trying for composed.

“Course.” He grins. “The only thing you owe me is ten compliments after our match with Slytherin next month.”

A snort escapes her. “Right, like that’ll happen. Keep dreaming, Potter.”

“Hey, it could happen!”

“You’ve got to earn those compliments, then.” She belatedly realizes that neither of them have moved from their positions. His hand is still warm on her shoulder; her back is chilly from pressing against the wall.

 _It would be very easy to kiss him,_ she thinks, almost like a dream.

“I’ll take that challenge,” he says, before stepping away to their cauldron. She blinks, feeling distinctly as if she’s come up for air for the first time in hours.

“Right,” she repeats, before clearing her throat. “Well, shall we get on with the experiment?”

He tosses her a bright smile over his shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready, Evans.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come cry with me on tumblr


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jily + lightheartedly planning their future together and it turning into both of them individually realizing this could actually happen" and "please do one with james finally winning over lily with one of his flirts and him seeing her blush and getting so excited because he didn't think it would ever work"

It’s a warm October afternoon when Lily decides Head business is business best addressed by the Great Lake. Subsequently, sheafs of parchment lie strewn about at their feet, amidst quills dripping ink and nodding wildflower heads and gently browning blades of grass.

James’ hands are soft and familiar in her hair as he twists ropes of it into braids. She tears another chunk of bread off the loaf she’s holding and tosses it into the Lake. Only a few seconds pass before a large tentacle slides up to grab it. Sunlight dances warm on the planes of her cheeks, her fingers, her calves. Her laugh startles a flock of owls in a neighboring tree.

“Come off it,” James is saying, a smile in his voice. “I’d be a great professional hair stylist.”

“Oh, of course,” she says, mock solemn. “I really do love the miracles you create with my hair. Like this one, what’s the technical name for this style? Rat’s nest?”

“Oi, I’m getting better at these - whatsits, French broads?”

“ _Braids_ ,” she laughs. “French braids, you git.”

“Ah, right.” He takes a moment to wrangle with a particularly stubborn lock of hair. “Listen, you’d save a fortune in hair products and styling every year. Think about it: you walk into some hair potion shop, ask for some Sleekeazy, they ask for a Galleon, you point to me and say - “

“I say, ‘I’m not contributing any more to this wanker’s trust fund,’ right?”

He laughs. “Yes, exactly that.”

“Hmm. You put up a very tempting offer, but I’m afraid you’d only be saving me a Galleon a year, if that. Not everyone has to use a bottle a day to tame their wild mane, you know.”

“I resent that comment very much,” he replies, and nicks a piece of bread.

There’s a short pause in which no one does much of anything. Then Lily tilts her head to one side, peering at him over her shoulder. “I s’pose I could keep you around for entertainment value, at the very least.”

“That’s a lifetime’s worth of employment,” he says. “Spectacular job security.”

“Yeah, you could hang ‘round my flat all day, cracking jokes and tripping over things. I wouldn’t be able to pay you much, though.”

“S’alright, making you laugh is worth it,” he says, unthinkingly. 

A warm flush stains her cheeks. His hands still in her hair at the sight.

“Alright, Evans?” he asks, trying to calm the sudden racing of his heart. “Looking a little sunburnt there.”

She pauses for a split second, then jerks around to face him fully. The half-finished braid unravels against her back, along her neck, by her temples. “Would you just,” she says, “kiss me already? Honestly, James, I don’t know _what_  you’ve been waiting for - “

He doesn’t wait a second longer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you please do one for the moment lily realizes she likes James?

She’s pretty familiar at this point with the hot stroke of desire that curls tight in her stomach at the sight of his hands raking through his hair, at the way his shoulders strain against his Quidditch robes, at the clean musk of his soap coming from her Potions cauldron. 

What she’s _not_  familiar with, however, is the way her lips tug up into a fond smile when his curls inevitably frizz out despite his hasty grooming, how her heart skips a beat at his furrowed brow as he plans last minute Chaser strategy at the breakfast table, how her cheeks flush with warmth when he looks up and grins at her through the Amortentia’s pink fumes. 

“Fuck,” she says, staring at the quickly turning leaves outside her dorm window. Marlene peers up from her textbook. “Fuck, Marls. I think I fancy James Potter.”

It takes the other girl nearly ten minutes to stop laughing. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jily au because i dont want to be sad lol "you give me a different fake name every time you come into starbucks and I just want to know your real name bc ur cute but here I am scrawling “batman” onto your stupid cappuccino"

 

If anyone were to ask Lily Evans about it later, she would swear it was because it had been an unusually slow day at the cafe.

If the same person were to ask Mary MacDonald about it later, she would reply that it had been quite busy that day, actually, with Lily doing most of the customer service.

If that same person were to ask Marlene McKinnon about it later, she would cackle.

As it were, it had been a sort of day that was neither slow nor busy, but perhaps a day that deserved to be laughed at, just a little.

It started with the tinkling of the bell above the cafe door, signaling that someone had just entered the shop. Lily Evans, busy making someone’s unnecessarily complicated drink order, didn’t even look up. 

Marlene McKinnon, however, who was lolling by the till, did look up, as did Mary MacDonald. There was a flurry of excited elbowing between the two before Marlene, clearing her throat, said, “Lily, dear, take over my spot for me? I’ve got to restock these biscuits. Mary can take your place.”

“Let me just finish this - ”

“Alright, Evans?” comes a new voice. Lily whips around. A snickering Marlene has already disappeared into the back; a calm Mary takes the half-finished drink out of Lily’s hand and pushes her toward the till.

The owner of the said new voice smirks at her from the other side of the counter. “Alright?” he repeats, and Lily grins.

“Perfectly fine. Let me guess: large white chocolate mocha, extra whipped cream?”

“Exactly.”

“And what will the name be today?”

He tilts his head in mock thought. “Hmm. Have I said Batman before?”

“Unfortunately, no, you have not.”

“Shocking. Well, Batman, then.” He slides her a bill. “Keep the change.”

He’s gone in a matter of minutes, with one last grin thrown Lily’s way. As soon as the shop door closes, Marlene’s laughter explodes from the back. 

“You dirty tricksters,” Lily accuses, unable to keep her smile off her face. “You dirty, cheating, lying - ”

“I wasn’t _lying_ , we really were out of biscuits!”

“Oh, and how often do you give a flying fuck about _being out of biscuits_?”

“She’s got you there, Marls,” Mary says, wiping her hands on her apron. “Batman? Really? What other names has he given you so far?”

“Honestly, they’re all quite stupid,” Lily lies.

“You laughed at ‘Clark from Kent’ for like four days,” says Marlene, throwing the retrieved biscuits into the display case haphazardly. Lily sighs, abandoning all pretense.

“I just want a name. One lousy, measly name, is that too much to ask?”

“Why do you want to know?” asks Mary. “It won’t change your relationship. If that’s what you can even call it.”

“Facebook stalking,” Lily and Marlene say, immediate and in sync.

“Christ.”

“Besides,” continues Marlene, “It’s a bit odd to say, ‘Hey, Batman, want to grab a drink sometime?’ It just opens the door to weird responses like, ‘Love to, but I’ve got to save Gotham. Besides, your name isn’t Rachel, so -’”

“You’re right, that was weird. Why would that be his response? If you’re going to roleplay, at least do it believably - “

“I’m not trying to ask him out,” interjects Lily, entirely unconvincing. “I just think he’s good-looking.”

“And funny, clearly. And quite a bit flirty. I’d say you have good odds, despite my _apparently shit roleplaying_  - “

“Oh come on, it was shit, we all know it - “

“Sorry, Marls, I’m going to have to go with Mary on this one.

“Shut up, Rachel.”

* * *

The next day goes much the same, except that Mary and Marlene are stuck in classes until seven at night, and so Lily is manning the cafe alone. She’s scrolling through Instagram surreptitiously by the till at around three, counting down the minutes until her shift ends, when a loud cough sounds from in front of her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she says, startled. She looks up to find Batman grinning at her, hair mysteriously wet. He is wearing his usual ratty football sweatshirt and trainers.

“Loafing about during business hours? For shame, Evans,” he teases, and she can’t help the smile that unfolds on her face in response.

“What can I say, coffee isn’t exactly a hot commodity at mid-afternoon. Although,” she says, squinting at him, “speaking of business hours, you look like the right age to be a young working professional. How about you let me take a look at your business card?”

His grin gets a little wider. “I’m afraid I don’t have any. Although that was a good try.”

“Damn, and I thought I’d created the perfect trap.”

He looks at her for a beat, and something in his expression softens. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

She frowns. “Should I?”

His laugh is delighted. “No, I s’pose not.” He pulls out his phone and types something in, hands it to her. “I’ll take pity on you and give you a hint.”

He’s opened his browser and pulled up a search result on Google images. Row after row of crimson football jerseys stare back at her, all emblazoned with the same golden name and number: _Potter 7._

“This is a Lions jersey,” she says slowly. “I know that much, but… Well, I know this jersey, it’s that Potter bloke’s, the one who scored the winning goal for last year’s championships or something, right?”

“Right,” he says, and then so fast she almost misses it, he continues, “and it was bloody hard, too, Hutchinson’s a top goalie. Thought I’d really fucked up sending it to his right corner, but I think maybe he wasn’t expecting me to use my non-dominant foot.”

Lily nearly drops his phone. “You’re saying you’re James Potter?”

He shuffles his feet. “A bit, yeah.”

A moment passes before an incredulous laugh escapes her mouth. “Is that why you gave me all those bullshit names?”

“I liked the fact that you didn’t know who I was,” he protests, smile playing about his lips. “That’s half the reason why I came here, at least for the first time. It seemed mostly empty and I don’t much like getting mobbed in other cafes.”

“The first time?”

“Well, the other times were mostly to see you again. Although the mochas are quite good.”

Lily hands his phone back to him, speechless. He runs a hand through his damp hair, making them even messier. “Erm, anything you’d like to say?” he asks, meek.

She shakes herself out of her stupor and extends a hand to him, expression determined. “Good to meet you, James. My name is Lily.”

He laughs. “Pleasure, Lily.”

“What can I get you? Large white chocolate mocha with extra whipped cream?”

“What about a date instead?” he asks. His cheeks are pink.

Lily bites back her smile. “I finish here at six. Supper?”

“I’d love to.” His smile turns mischievous. “Although, where’s your manager? I think I’ll have to tell her I caught one of her employees both on her phone _and_  flirting with customers during her shift.”

“You started it!”

“Oh, fabulous defense, Evans, really well done - “

“Shut up,” she says, and the kiss she plants on his cheek seems to do the trick.

“I’ll take that mocha now, in a china mug,” he says, looking pleased.

She rolls her eyes, now a little pink herself. “Planning on staying here for a while, then?”

“Well, as long as you’ll let me, Evans.”

That sounds about right to her.

 

**Author's Note:**

> come hang out and/or prompt me at jamesstruttingpotter.tumblr.com


End file.
